Through my eyes

 

We have connections and ties with others that we can’t escape, which has a domino effect in itself, causing things to cascade down into bringing everyone together. Maybe our actions affect others in a manner we can never imagine. 

After a long time, I went to a nearby temple today and I saw someone circumventing the sacred pillar and it triggered a series of past memories within me.  During my childhood, it was a very frequent sight for me to watch my mother wrapping her hair in a thin cloth towel, piled on her head, from where the water starts dripping down the wet strands, slowly cascading onto the shoulder of her dark green saree blouse, forming a wet patch where the drops fell.

She used to look striking, her eyes lined with kohl, dark and shining. Her forehead was always with a deep maroon bindi that contrasted with her dark green saree. The bangles on her wrists used to make a tinkling noise. And not to forget her smile always used to warm my heart. She had an aura that instantly made people feel at ease, made them feel special, made them feel loved. The way she used to look at me with eyes that made my heart melt, I just can never forget that

Well, I went to the temple today not just because it’s my birthday but more importantly it is the day I lost my mother 3 years back, so I had some rituals to take care of. 

She was gentle, kind, understanding and ticks all the boxes of the qualities a good mother should have. I am still picking up the shards and I bleed every time I find a memory, a piece. I was so lost in my spiralling thoughts

My favourite pastime had been blogging;I always like the ritual of writing. Giving definite shapes in the form of words to abstract thoughts makes them more powerful. The more I write, the surer I am of what I feel, what I want. The thoughts then lose their power to rise up like smoke, blinding me

When I write them down, I weave them into ropes; ropes I use to attempt to rein in my life. 

But thinking about her today had stirred a lot of memories I thought I had buried. 

Well, I just told myself again for one more time today that  Life is a series of new beginnings…you start, you reach, you reset and you start again… Again and again, you will have to start again. Every finishing line is the new starting line 

Life is about growing and outgrowing. I learnt to gracefully let go of the beautiful past and majestically step into the new future. Past is memory. The future is hope, so reset and start again.

MEMORABLE MARCH,2021 AT MANDOVI HOUSE-GOA (By T.V.A.RAM)…….मन DOLE….. मेरे DIL… DOLE….MANDOVI

 

We, as a family hardly met all together on a happy occasion for a long long time. My younger brother Commodore Prasanna just became Rear Admiral in the Indian Navy. We all together just managed well the wedding of Bunny and Kasia on zoom in the mid-February. The WhatsApp pictures of  beautiful peacocks, turtles and scary snakes received as daily visitors at the Mandovi mansion only made us more curious. Then the threat of their impending transfer out of Goa in ensuing May finally hurried us all. So, Mandovi's family get-together in March at Goa happened.

The excitement for the Goa trip for the entire family, the oldies and the kids alike built up and the hype  kept on increasing as the D-day of travel approached. Luckily we all managed to get  RT-PCR test  negative reports before our embankment.  On arrival at the Mandovi house, the snow-white towels folded  beautifully in the form of a swan which  was neatly placed on the well made up bed welcomed us. A re-run of our honey-moon days….!!!!!! 

Mandovi house’s lush greens outside, swings in the backyard, the beautiful flowers all around was a feast to the eye. With so much scenic beauty around, Gayatri and Pallavi our beautiful daughters-in-law were excited to  have their own photo-shoots. Enjoying the nature, they recorded some beautiful videos. The sight of the beautiful peacocks and peahens in the complex in groups and the male at times spreading it’s beautiful feathers was a sight to behold. The three domesticated turtles christened Nimbo, Jumbo and Dumbo in the small pond of the backyard were playful. The constant fear of snakes lurking in bushes,  with many of  

their pictures circulating in the social media, kept all of  us on our toes. The few morning walks on the very well maintained roads and the brief jogging sessions there  excited all of us. Our Valli, Mrs.Prasanna was at her usual loving best served us chole bhatures of the north, Chinese noodles, Goan sannas, Goa’s Poi  bread , and   the Italian pizzas. The daily yummy afternoon snacks ensured we all became a few kgs healthier.

The one week of togetherness between 26th March and 2nd April was jam packed with many activities and fun-filled  celebrations. We celebrated festival of colours Holi, for the first time in Goa. The day began with lots of colours which we all applied to each other, children as always had a blast. Some bald heads of the naval officers who visited us to wish  also were also  not spared. Their bald heads were generously coloured. With Bollywood holi songs playing aloud had wonderful holi celebrations

 Holidays ke Beech mein, we all managed to visit a private beach where we had lots of fun with the sea water and the never ending waves. Of all, Barfi had a time of her life, fully enjoyed  the splashes of the waves, not caring the warnings of her parents. It was great fun to watch her joy and excitement

We all visited the training centre of the Marine commandos of the Indian navy. Holding of AK-47 there  thrilled us.We realised how tough and hard is the training  for these commandos to keep them ever fit and alert  always.  The visit to the Tarini boat which sailed over all the continents of the world was interesting. The daredevilry and the adventurous spirit of the sailors was a revealing

    Then we had birthday celebrations of my better half who just turned 16(turn16 to..61}on April fool’s day.

Bujji and Valli , as always ensured to make the day a memorable one. If we had a wonderful cake cutting  on midnight of the birthday with lots of balloons and other decorations, the same evening was reserved for a beautifully arranged dinner in the green lawns outside with hot sizzlers for dinner, lovely music in the background. The timely power shut down enabled us to have candle-lit dinner. Dances, music followed and the highlight of the evening was impromptu English song by our little Barfi. It was stunning talent  to see her sing with clear lyrics and melody. Amazing. So proud of her.

We, all the boys had late night talks some nights going till 3 am but thoroughly enjoyed them as we understood and came a little more closer to one another during these interesting conversations. Such  chances to fully and freely  spend together in the family are quite rare. The joining of Prudhvi raj, my special nephew has only added extra flavour to our group. Interactions with him were not only interesting but also enjoyable. His thoughts, ideas and the thinking process are  interestingly different. With Dhruv, it is discussions of a different type, as he is very clear in his thoughts and does not waver. His interest and knowledge about automobiles is amazing, we are absolutely sure about his bright future ahead. The interactions with Dhron  have always been very interesting. The best part  about the interactions with Dhron  is that he makes the others talk about their favourite topics and he remains cool and non-puzzled even if provoked. Conversations with him excite me.

         For the bacha party,{Ref:Pic:5} if Bujji babai was Tata police, Rohini bamma was a teacher and Atchut babai was a funny Tata. For Aayra, the baby of the whole gang good was gudat and bad was badut.

During the daytime one day ladies were busy with mehandi session

some boys had  facial sessions and head massages. children joined by the elders playing the interesting building game of jengo. Carrom and TT games kept us engaged. All the boys thoroughly enjoyed the TT games, specially the doubles as four of us could play together.

The veterans of the gang me and Rohini even participated successfully in the 5 km run of the’Station Mandovi half marathon’ on 4 th April, 2021. The Mandovi house has a tradition  where the CO, the Commanding Officer residing in the house is expected to  leave his mark in the improvement or betterment of the INS Mandovi house. 

In our case the Mandovi house has left  a mark of many sweet memories of one week family masti which  we  will keep discussing and ruminating for a long long time to come. Jai Mandovi…..Mera dil maange more…. Man..dole mera dil dole …Mandovi.

4 years, Already!

This is my fourth year living without you. I knew it would be hard, but I didn’t know it would be this hard. I didn’t know I would break down while preparing tea today, because that’s when I would have phoned you. And I didn’t know how much I would need those consoling hugs from barfi, your granddaughter, the one who remind me of you more and more the older she gets. Barfi keeps asking me about you every now and then. Not sure of how to explain her, I keep telling that you are with sun during the day and with moon during the night watching her with eagles eye. I am sure one day she will find out what I meant. I wish you could have heard her say it. She has your solid build and your kind heart. She is so much bigger than when you held her last. She’s already a five years old, Daddy. She was only 1 year old when we lost you. She has your thought process and your happy demeanour. She is definitely having your sense of humour. 

 

I wish you could have taught her math or cooked her your famous tomato upma. I wish you could have spent more time with her that  she would treasure, just as you did for me. You were so kind, Daddy. I wish you could be here to cheer her on at her karate classes, yes Barfi is learning karate these days. I wish you could be there to watch her graduate and get married. I wish you could see all you had to offer as a dad and a grandpa and maybe one day, a great-grandpa. You had so much life left to live. So many more memories to make. It hurts unbelievably to think that barfi won’t remember you. But I promise you this, Daddy—she will know you. I will make sure of it. Not a day, or hardly even a minute, goes by that I don’t think of you. I talk to you all the time and I still know what you would say in response. I’m scared to lose that. I don’t want to forget what your big bear hugs felt like

People say it gets easier, and maybe it does. The hurt never really goes away, but I have learnt to live with it. Death becomes a way of life. But when I hear one of your favorite songs, or feel the urge to pick up the phone and call you—that’s when it hits me. I break down like I did the moment you took your last breath. May be, Grief isn’t something you can control or wish away. It’s always there, ever-present, just waiting to strike.

And today, it’s like a heavy cloak hanging over my shoulders, I am trying to enjoy this day with the family I still have. They understand, of course, and I know they miss you, too.

Thank you for supporting me, believing in me, teaching me, being there for me, and loving me, Dad.

I know I will Never Get Over This, But i Will Get Through this. As I learn to accept, I might not feel the pain but the scar remains

In loving memory of my dearest Daddy,

Aditya 

 

Mothers Day 2020

It is few hours away from “Mothers-day” and I sit here at my home, locked down and thinking about my mother.  Among the many memories I had with her, one which I recall the most is how she always believed in “peace first” policy. One such incident was  during my post schooling days, when i used to get quite upset over the simple things, like my mother not giving coffee "on-time" every morning and this used to bother me a lot. And after observing this for a while, I complained this to my mother.  For which, she told me  that anything that comes into my life should stay with me to become my strength or it should leave me, to make me free. But  it should never stay with me and continue be my weakness. And she also told me that these habits that has gained mastery over me, will be very soon  gaining mastery over my peace....and for sure will disturb my peace.  For which, she told me to practice the ability to “say no” for one full week & abstain from that which disturbed me. Practising this will either give me complete mastery over it or I will no more be in need of this, forever. 

May be i didn't understood this truly then but now i realised that everything that comes into our life should stay with us to become our strength or it should leave us to make us free it should never stay with us and become our weakness.

I am practising this advice of hers now to only see how much peace I have invited in my life. 

Well, TWO YEARS before, on the same day, I wrote something but didn’t publish then. I wrote:

She's caged away in a place “they” call home, staring void. Her language became nothingness. She sees mostly the ceiling and sometimes the walls.

She does no movements, yet  they say she is still alive. Is she? or is she not? What am I to believe? What am I to feel?
The pain I now endure for her, deeply tears me apart. I have survived this year after year by blocking her from my thoughts. Yet as the time comes close for me to return these fears resurface.
The saddest part being not able to do anything but being with her. She is my mother. I came into this world from her womb and now getting ready to carry her to her tomb wishing to say goodbye.
Its so very excruciating to say my final goodbye is near-by. My heart pangs, my body feels weakened and my hands seem to tremble.
Death, although is final destination, its never easy to let someone go.
Although I know this deep sleep will bring peace and comfort. It will remove her from a life that disappeared many years ago.
It is all so agonising as I try to say my final goodbyes.

Today, I saw my mother’s hanging photograph again for one more time and said to myself that when you are unwell and still there with me,  we understand each other’s silence. And we kept gazing at each other for hours. There were moments with no communication and yet there was so much of understanding. I always keep wondering how Ironic life is... when I was born, you understood my language without any name to it. Now when you are leaving me, I am understanding your language without you uttering a single word. isn’t it wonderment in itself? They say you have died & passed away . Amaa… you will always continue to live in my heart now Forever and Always. You didn't pass away, but you passed on you passed on your compassion, kindness & pure love.

Happy Mother’s Day, for one more time 

With Silence beyond words and immense gratitude, 

Aditya

                                                     The Embarrassing moment

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The very word ‘BICYCLE’ reminds me of my good old school days. I still remember how desperate I was for owning a cycle. Thanks to my uncle who gifted me a wonderful bicycle. Well, I guess, I was at the incipient stage of my 6^th class, when I had been gifted this. It was the very first kind of cycles having a shock absorber (A mechanical damper; which absorbs energy of sudden impulses). So, you know, it was like neighbour’s envy and owner’s pride. I used to take Unreasonable and inordinate self-esteem every moment I was on it. It was more than a girlfriend to me at least perhaps at that point of time. Long years ago, when my grandfather used to cycle, cycling for workout would have been a ludicrous idea. And it was broadly or extravagantly humorous; resembling farce. It is no more as people zip around in nippy cars and vehicles and worry about ways to puncture their waist tiers. And I badly wanted to own a bicycle of my own and what best can happen then get this beautiful entity gifted. But yes, there was a catch here.

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My uncle is from Indian Navy and synonymously second to discipline. He said to me that I can only get the luxury of a new bicycle if I show him significant progress in my yearly report. I was in class 6 then, and finally the day came when I was given my yearly progress report. Ironically fate had different plans for me, that year I couldn’t get the expected progress and I was far behind my expectations. I was completely disappointed, not because I got less marks but because I would lose a beautiful bicycle. So, I went home with a great disappointment and to my surprise I realized that my uncle happened to give us a surprise visit to our place on the same day but was not at home when I reached. So, inside my mind, I was thinking about all the permutations and combinations of ideas, that help me to get the bicycle first. In this process, I took the help of my innocent brother and was discussing secretly with him on where to hide the progress report and was checking his inputs. As always in my case, whenever I plan anything that should not be, I will get caught in the very first step itself…so was this for me, My uncle was sleeping on the floor other side of the bed and I didn’t notice him , thinking that he was away I was preparing the entire script and he overheard the entire conversation. Well, the rest is history…..Although my uncle gifted me with a beautiful bicycle but that came with a deserved punishment. I really don’t remember what I thought then but now if I think, I just smile about it and feel blessed that how I am corrected at the beginning of my mistakes ensuring my thought process is always right. I fondly call him “BujjI Babai” and he is my inspiration.  This was my most embarrassing and memorable moment.

Today for some reason I saw a kid on a cycle hit the pedal of exhilaration. Without the claustrophobic helmet, and I asked him if I can pedal the cycle for a while. As I hit the pedals after ages, the biker habits come into play. No matter how hard I resist, the right hand tries to rev up the non-existing accelerator. Then I forgot cyclists don’t have accelerator. And I saw  the U-turn, which  is yards away. But I felt it’s not a big deal, I have lifted up the bicycle and put it down on the other side of the divider. It seemed like weightlifting. Textbooks would suggest that cycling is exercise for calves and thighs, but in city it is definitely  for wrists, arms and shoulders. I couldn’t believe till the road became pathetically bad with  the potholes and the dug-up patches on the road, sent shockwaves of energy down my hand (my shock absorbers started behaving as shock receptors) . It funny and took me down the memory lane for one more time.

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